DEAR MAMA by Nikita Bhardwaj
Dear Mama
You told me I was born to be loved.
That I clawed out of the womb like a wild
thing, slick with my father’s breath
and the first smell of rain.
We were alone,...
OVERFLOW by Adam Day
OVERFLOW
Judges – spit
no polish; wigs
out of order –
clouds hanging
like wool
on barbed wire.
History rush
loosens jaws
white system
reality rewritten
in cities that are
also history.
Adam Day is the author of Left-Handed Wolf...
A GATEKEEPER’S VIGIL by Helen Sokolsky
A GATEKEEPER’S VIGIL
I wander through carpets of heather and primrose
leaving behind a discordant arena
my salve is found locked in this garden
where a single flower can restore the soul
no strife present in this cloister...
BREEZE by Alan Berger
BREEZE
There is a soft breeze coming from a place I use to be
A sweet gust between the two of us
A truce of sorts if you want to call it that
A sort of cease fire...
I TOOK IT AS A SIGN TO START SINGING by Richard Grove
I Took it as a Sign to Start Singing
Inspired by Rumi Translated by Coleman Barks
Last night the full moon floated
in the stillness of my cool,
lake-view horizon.
I took it as a sign to start...
WHY by Dave Clark
Why
Why.
Who is better off at their final breath?
I cry out.
Why?
I get no answer.
There has to be an answer for this.
Surely some reason,
Some purpose.
But what answer
Would leave me feeling okay
About their demise?
What answer would satisfy?
Why.
I’m...
SLOW MOTION by Merlin Flower
Slow motion
Frozen in the depths
of the holiday, a horrendous
thought awoke,
and snared.
are friends
the real enemies?
you said you were broke
as I was waiting for the ‘ever running
late’ bus ruminating on
the mounting debts...
LOVE GAMES by Edith Speers
Love Games
Start anywhere
and with tongue or fingertip trace on your lover
the longest possible route to your favourite place
or your least favourite place
Start anywhere
and imagine the aging of your beloved
detail by detail...
PASSING TIME by John P. Drudge
Passing Time
In the vaguely
Haunted
Eventless days
Of wandering aimlessly
Over bridges
From bank to bank
Past smoky cafes
And cheap hotels
High on wine
And careless oblivion
Putting place
And tradition
Beyond the tangible
Striking
Of my tears
On cobblestones
As...
CLOCKWORK by Anannya Uberoi
Clockwork
The clockwork's clunking cycles—
routine chirrups working with
our own, mechanical metronome
dictating our waking and falling
and drifting in staccato synchrony.
The clockwork's scissors shard
furibund flowers by the hour,
comb the seasons, change their warmth,
pendulum the...
